


Point Man

by penny



Category: Baccano!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: roads_diverged, Military Fetish, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-30
Updated: 2008-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penny/pseuds/penny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets from Keith's years at West Point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Point Man

**Author's Note:**

> For Roads Diverged, cosplay - military theme

**Plebe**

Keith knew he was the odd one out. The other cadets came from military families, from money, from influence, and he was just the son of an immigrant who still couldn't speak good English. He had no idea how his father managed to secure his admission to West Point. Some connection of his father's -- likely not a connection a man of "good moral character" would have, so Keith knew he was better off not knowing -- landed Keith one of Senator Wadsworth's appointments. He couldn't waste it.

So he kept quiet, spoke only when necessary, ignored his fellow cadets when they taunted his accent, his family -- and oh, that was hard, because at least his family _earned_ their living. Just as he'd earn the valedictorian spot.

Then he'd earn his commission, his promotions. His fellow cadets were wrong. He did know what it meant to wear the uniform. He knew how it felt to have people depend on you, knew what it was like to uphold the family name, to make everyone proud. He had younger brothers, after all.

And he also knew he wouldn't be the only Gandor to make it through West Point. Just the first.

**Yearling**

Diplomacy, Keith quickly learned, was a valuable skill. Diplomacy allowed him to seem levelheaded and calm, like man who didn't hold grudges. Diplomacy had his fellow cadets seeking him out for advice -- how do I keep my steady from finding out about the other girl, pass the next calculus test? -- and none of them seemed to understand he would remember everything.

Not that he would talk. Silence was more valuable than diplomacy.

"I know you saw me."

Keith looked up. This late, the library was nearly empty, so the interruption startled him. Cadet Jefferson, dependable enough, though shaky on his math.

"During the test." Jefferson sat across from him. "And I know you know the Honor Code."

Keith shrugged. There was a difference between seeing and seeing. All he saw from his desk was Jefferson looking down at his lap. Given his vantage point -- one row over and one desk back -- he couldn't know for certain that Jefferson had cheated. So what could he report?

"You don't talk much."

"Only when I need to."

"Ah, Belmont?" Jefferson looked sheepish. "Your accent. I'm from East Tremont."

Keith leaned back, considering Jefferson. "I suppose that makes us brothers."

**Cow**

The Canadian boys were rough on the ice. It was supposed to be a gentlemanly game, a polite rivalry between West Point and the Royal Military College of Canada, but it was hockey. A little blood was unavoidable. Keith loved it.

He checked the Canadian forward. They scuffled for the puck. Keith took a sharp elbow in the ribs, but he didn't back down. When your baby brother -- forget that Luck was too old to be impressed by everything his big brothers did -- was watching, you weren't going to lose.

So he got the puck, passed to Jefferson, cheered when he scored. It was almost as good as getting the winning goal himself.

Besides, Jefferson was on shaky ground. He could use the prestige of scoring the final goal. Keith kept to himself in the locker room, let Jefferson bask in the praise.

"Come meet my brothers," he said when the team congratulations were done and they had showered. "They want to meet the man who has my back."

"They…know about me?" Jefferson blinked at him, eager yet wary.

"Of course." Keith straightened his cuffs, smoothed back his hair. "Come meet them."

Jefferson smiled. "Yes. I'd be honored."

**Firstie**

They weren't supposed to gamble, weren't supposed to play poker, but they did anyway. And Keith always won. The Honor Code didn't extend to games they weren't supposed to be playing.

Keith splayed out his hand. Full house. King high. He hadn't even needed to slide the ace out from his sleeve thanks to the way Jefferson stacked the deck.

"Figures." The others rose from the table, leaving Keith alone with Jefferson.

"Another hand?" Jefferson was a showy shuffler, making the cards dance.

Keith smirked. "Stakes?"

"Cigarettes, of course."

Keith scooped up his hand. Flush.

"Luck seems to be doing well."

"Hmm." Keith discarded two, rearranged his hand. Almost a straight flush. With the ace up his sleeve...

"But then you know that. Because he's a Gandor."

Keith cracked a smile. Luck's West Point career would likely be better than his. That was just the kind of person Luck was.

"He's first in his class."

Keith was neck-and-neck for valedictorian. "I fold."

Jefferson looked stunned. "You never fold."

"A cadet will not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do." He slid the ace from his sleeve.

"And a Gandor?"

"Gandors do what's necessary to protect their own."


End file.
